Leaves On The Water
by MoogleTerra
Summary: FF6 Terra thinks about how her life has changed, and how emotions are still fleeting.


**Leaves On The Water**

Sleeping was a very difficult task to accomplish in the world that ended a year before, with the withering plants, the birds who have grown ill, and the animals that either grew to be more hardened and unpredictable or sickly and eventually died. When the planet ripped itself open wide and showed its inhabitants what chaos really was, what it was like to see thousands and thousands of people evaporate into cinders, hope seemed to die with it.

As the days progressed in the little broken village Terra started to call home, the monotony became a sort of comfort. She got up before dawn every day to go fetch water from the stream and boil it for tea or coffee, which surprisingly, Mobliz had crates and crates of that survived the Light of Judgment. Duane had told her that it must have been imported from Nikeah just before the cataclysm and was intended to be sold at the General Store.

Then in one of the intact kitchens, she would start making breakfast for everybody. By this time, Katarin would join her and help cook the eggs and fry corn cakes. They did not have much, but they made do with what they had, and tried their best to grow more and more each day.

Now looking back at how she used to chatter with Kat in the kitchen, Terra felt herself becoming agonizingly homesick.

She was in Albrook now, her friends came back to bring her with them to fight Kefka. They still had Shadow, Strago, Relm, and Locke to find, if they were alive anyways. Sabin was ever optimistic, somehow having a feeling that everybody was alive, that the end of the world was not enough to kill off everybody. ("Especially Strago," he joked, "That old bat won't kick off for another eighty years I bet!")

It was fall, the time of the harvest, and the time of the leaves falling from the trees, shedding their summer colors of bright, vibrant greens, to more warm colors. The yellows and reds always reminded Terra of fire, making her think that the trees were ablaze, as if crying out to the world that they were alive, don't forget about them.

The wood of the railing outside of the inn felt almost chilly, another reminder that winter was coming, and that Duane and Katarin would have to store all the food they could for the children.

"I hope they're holding up well without me," She sighed, lowering her head, her eyes catching glimpses of the rooftops below, the bridges leading to the ships, and the waters that looked like steel.

She knew that this landing, the railing, the steps leading down to the street all held significance to her friends Celes and Locke. How they had a sort of small falling out, as Edgar put it, right there where she stood.

Back when she had no concept or sense of self, she watched them through the murky windowpane. Locke had eased himself out of bed, insomnia striking once again, as it often did when Celes was gone, and sneaked out of the Inn room. She had heard the creak of the floorboards as his stocking feet padded softly on, and the small click as the heavy wooden door closed back.

"Locke?" she whispered into the darkness, curious about what he was up to. After a moment, she slipped out of bed too, and tiptoed after him, avoiding the creaky floorboards the best she could. In the little lobby where they checked in for the evening, she made her way to the end table with the vase of gladiolas, and peered out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of where he went. Terra had been preparing to follow him out into the night, see where he would tread, and enjoy the crisp night air near the sea.

Quickly hiding behind the curtains and peeking out through the crack, Terra watched Locke and Celes speak in muted voices. The mint haired girl watched as Locke tried speaking to the blonde, his arm movements becoming more desperate as she never replied. When he lightly touched her shoulder, as if wanting to lean in and apologize, the woman jerked away, never looking at him as she sprinted off down the stairs.

Locke hung his head, knowing he was wrong, and then Terra decided she had seen enough and scurried back to her bed.

The memory bothered her for some reason, and as she stood in the place where it took place, her heart ached.

Back in Mobliz, Terra could easily ignore that sort of memory and the emotions along with it when she delved head first into her daily chores. Cooking, cleaning, weeding the garden, wiping dirt and sometimes tears from her children's faces, knitting scarves and hats for the on coming winter, and then settling down in bed at the end of the night with socks that needed darning. Domestic comforts and routine were a welcomed distraction.

She never had to see Celes' face when somebody mentioned Locke, and never had to think of Kefka.

Instead of once having Locke to herself, or later having Mog to play with, or even later than that, having her children to fawn over, Terra only had herself now, her memories, and the sight of the leaves on the water down in the bay. In itself, the thought was comforting because she had only her own heartache to deal with, not those of another.


End file.
